Sherlock: The Monuments of the Heart
by Golden Suze
Summary: A new case emerges; a budding singer approaches Sherlock and John claiming he found the body of a man after his Hammersmith gig but there's no sign of it. Someone clearly wants to be two steps ahead of the Baker Street duo. Sherlock and Molly finally get the chance and share their feelings.
1. Preparation

**As I enjoyed watching The Final Problem last Sunday night(15/1/17), I wanted to do a Sherlock fanfic, as a follow on.**

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 **Sherlock: The Monuments of the Heart**

 **Chapter 1**

221B Baker Street had barely recovered from the impact of the explosion before Sherlock had insisted on redecorating the flat. His mind had obviously become hugely distracted by the recent events caused by Eurus at the Sherrinford facility. John agreed, believing it might be better for his friend to start getting his life back to normal. The visits to his sister happened twice a month, all at her request. Brother and Sister would perform Franz Biber's The Mystery Sonatas and other various classical pieces of music. Their love for music, helped them to bond well with each other. Mycroft was never happy with the fact, Sherlock would defend his sister, whenever the two brothers had an argument.

Once the flat was decorated and looking better than ever, with the new wallpaper and the scientific equipment, everything felt refreshing about each section of the flat. Although Sherlock enjoyed making Rosie smile and giggle with his many pulled silly faces, yet there were still many moments where he considered the possibility of having not done everything right.

Sherlock's recent ever changing behaviour hadn't gone unnoticed by John, who looked determined to get to the bottom of the reason behind this. One morning as John sat down for breakfast with his friend, he chose this moment to ask him, what was really going on. "Go on, enlighten me."

"Enlighten you with what, John?" He really wasn't in the mood to talk too much that morning.

"My deduction tells me, something's on your mind or perhaps it's someone who is on your mind?...Eurus...Irene Adler" Sherlock instantly rolled his eyes, as soon John started asking far too many questions.

"For the last time John, I don't love Irene Adler. She's more of an ally to me than a future girlfriend."

"Molly then?..." unsurprisingly John was soon met with silence and a very telling stare from the Consulting Detective. From the impression he got, it didn't take John too long to work out, who else meant a lot to his friend...Molly Hooper.

"Why don't you just ask her out?"

"I can't, not after what Eurus made me do. You seen what she did, didn't you? Attempting to emotionally hurt both myself and Molly with three words that wouldn't be considered to hurt anyone in a bad way. No I can't, not right now."

"Sherlock it's been weeks since what your sister put us all through with her twisted mind games. Besides I've told Molly about Eurus. So here's a piece of advice from me to you; don't live with regrets for the rest of your life because they'll only bite you in the backside, the longer you continue to think nothing of them." John was beginning to get fed up with his friend, mooching around and doing nowt whatsoever to act on his personal thoughts.

The atmosphere between them turned silently annoying, for John particularly and then fell on deaf ears, for the duration of 10-15 minutes at least. Dishing one or two truths had felt like the right thing to do at first but now the fact he wasn't having much luck with convincing Sherlock to take his advice on board. Yet, he soon found out his assumption regarding this matter wasn't as he thought it might end up becoming, Sherlock was slowly coming around to the idea of acting on his gut feeling.

"What if she says no and wants us just to remain friends? What if I frighten her again? What if, I follow in my sister's footsteps with everything I tell Molly?"

"You won't, follow in Eurus' footsteps. You're far from becoming like your sister. You use your mind palace for better deductions and to prevent lives from hanging on a cliffhanger. What I'm trying to tell you is, there's always first for everything Sherlock."

"What if she ends up saying yes and then a case comes up? Surely she will want to keep her distance."

"Oh for god's sake Sherlock, just phone her up and ask her!" Clearly John couldn't tolerate another moment of listening to Sherlock's 'What if' questions, raised his voice and in the process accidentally woke Rosie up from her sleep. The two men exchanged looks, Sherlock's was more of a curious look and John's was a 'I probably shouldn't have shouted at you like that' look. Luckily Mrs Hudson, who was quietly cleaning in the kitchen and had taken it upon herself to look in on Rosie. She didn't experience any trouble in calming the baby down from crying.

"Oh Mrs Hudson. Have I told you, you're a true godsend." John tells the landlady, as soon as she appears from John's former bedroom in the flat.

"Yes you have...but I've lost count how many times you told me. Anyway, what's all this shouting about? Has Sherlock had another argument with his brother? I don't know why he's still talking to him. All that despicable man ever does is bring trouble and danger to poor Sherlock's door." Mrs Hudson voiced her opinion of the eldest Holmes brother, an opinion which didn't surprise John nor Sherlock at all.

John turned to face her. "Not quite, I'm afraid...well not this time. It's more to do with a wake up and smell the coffee call."

"John...I'd rather you didn't make yourself Baker Street's answer to the News of the World right now, even without doing an update on your computer. You're better than that." Sherlock requested, making it clear he wasn't comfortable with every detail of their conversation being passed on to other people.

"Sorry but I think Mrs Hudson is owed an reasonable explanation, as to why I shouted at you." Being honest and truthful was always the best way of behaving whenever Mrs Hudson was in the same room.

"Fine then." The youngest Holmes brother huffed.

"When me, Mycroft and Sherlock found ourselves incarcerated at the Sherrinford facilities. Eurus dared Sherlock to save someone who loves him, someone whose life who we were led to believe, life was at risk. All he had to do was get her to tell him she loved him. He wasn't allowed to tell her, the threat to her life, depended on him getting to admit those three words. In the end, Eurus told us, it was all just one big ruse. Twisted I know. Yet now, Sherlock's beginning to think the same as this certain person who loves him...it's Molly by the way...she's the woman who loves him. "

"Oh Sherlock..." Mrs Hudson squealed with delight and rushed over to hug her favourite tenant.

"I haven't exactly spoken to Molly in person yet. I'm not really sure, I know where I stand with her."

Going over this one last time in his extraordinary mind proved tough enough for him, within it. However with knowing now, on the outside he had been led to believe the 'I Love You' declaration was only ever a code to save Molly Hooper's life, it made matters confusing to say the least. Sherlock had pretty much convinced himself, from his point of view that his words to her felt genuine but he didn't know how it would remotely likely for him to explain the depths of his feelings, even with one of his long drawn out, puzzle solving speeches.

"Oh I'm sure, she'll come and see you when she's ready." Mrs Hudson thinks the two of them just need to choose the right time and moment, to sit down and sort things out with each other as soon as possible.

"I'm not sure I can wait for her to come and see me. Something's changed, even my mind palace is telling me one thing and my heart is telling me something else entirely." The most rarest and unusual of smiles suddenly forms itself across Sherlock's face, as he visualizes one or two of these images.

 _Molly and Sherlock hold each other's hand, she appeared to look more comfortable with holding his hand than he was with hers. The two had taken up stargazing as a hobby. This certain hobby certainly benefited Sherlock with his deductions. Starry lights floated everywhere around them, as if it were a magical fairytale of sorts._

 _"You need to tell the real me, how you feel, Sherlock. Imagining us together, can't be the way forward for you."_

His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a 18 year old boy with long black hair, knocking at the flat door. He took everyone by surprise.

"May I ask, how long you've been standing there?" Sherlock asks. He doesn't waste no time, in analyzing every detail about this young man. Certain features which stood out about this individual included;

 _Single. - This is an easy giveaway._

 _Owns a dog - he knows this, the moment he acknowledges the dog paws on the man's shoes._

 _Travels during the summer - the rounded shoulders pose the young man has, that too he notes._

 _Sore fingers, obviously plays a musical instrument_

 _Vegetarian_ _\- the smell of celery is very evident. John doesn't seem to have noted this._

 _Ambitious_

"The elderly woman told me to wait downstairs. I heard shouting, so I came up here to see why I'd been forgotten about."

 _Scottish or Irish? - he can't tell which accent it is._

Mrs Hudson makes her apologies to the young man before she exits the room, leaving him alone with Sherlock and John, who both now happened to be sitting in their usual seats.

"Do please take a seat." Sherlock says, gesturing for him to take a seat, centered in the middle, the only one which remained vacant for a few seconds.

"So why do you need our help...?" John asks, while clutching a notepad and pen in both of his hands.

"Peter...my name's Peter. Peter MacNair" The young man more or less blurts his name out instead of calmly confirming it. It's plain obvious something might in fact be causing him some distress, once all eyes are on him.

 _Scared? A witness to an unreported crime? Shaky hands?_ Sherlock is right on the mark, as he's able to pick up on further giveaway clues about Peter.

"Well...where do I start? I was playing a gig in Hammersmith. The concert went brilliant, better than I expected..."

"Get to the point please" Sherlock requests, as he closes his eyes in complete concentration and listens to main part of Peter's story. With his hands positioned as if he were praying, he questions whether the conclusion will be a) Absolutely boring, dull b) Slightly Fascinating c) Reveal a shocking revelation.

"I was going back to my dressing room and before I got to open the door, I heard screams coming from upstairs from the stage area. So I went to see what the commotion was. From thereon here's where the strange stuff began to get really weird. I discovered a man's body lying face down in the doorway and then the next thing I know, I'm waking up in my dressing room with a banging headache and holding an heavy object in my hand. How it came to be in my hand, I have no explanation of this but rest of assure I'm adamant I didn't kill this man whoever he was."

"So why hasn't anybody reported you, for making these claims?"

"Because whoever committed the crime is obviously manipulating, those who either witnessed or overheard this person planning to carry out this criminal act. Unbeknownst to you walked into the perfect trap...Peter. " Sherlock informs him. An visual image of the crime scene emerges in front of everyone in the flat's living room.

 _Sherlock stands up from his chair and doesn't take too long to use his observation skills to, examine the room around him. The not-so-small room looks likely to have been disturbed but Sherlock simply puts that down to the audience making a mess. He positions his left hand in the air and then a safe dial appears right in front of him, to rewind this night back in time. He notes blood spots by the stage and Peter unconscious on the floor - perhaps the unidentified body was wrapped up and then dragged past where Peter was lying. Two individuals had certainly done well to disguise themselves, looked down at him before dragging him through the doorway of the room and into the far background. The lights in this room flickered and dimmed, an ominous warning for Sherlock to leave this visualized scene for the time being._

"So, do you believe me or not?" Peter asks.

"Have you spoken to anyone else about this, other than the two of us?" John refers to himself and Sherlock.

"Yes I spoke to a DI Lestrade. He hardly helped me. The only answer I ended up getting from him was, 'Not my Division, go to 221B Baker Street, I know two crime solvers who would be very happy to help you." _In flashback sound, Greg Lestrade's voice momentarily utters these words of recommendation._

"Did he now?...We'll take the case." Sherlock says, as he glances over at the young man.

 **xxx**

Sherlock and John entered the Hammersmith venue where Peter's gig had taken place a few nights ago. Everyone who worked there looked on in amazement and surprise. Various whispers circulated around _"Is that him, the great Sherlock Holmes of 221B Baker Street? Go on you idiot, go and ask him for a selfie. Oi Terry, better let your followers know on Twitter, Sherlock Holmes is in the same building as you."_

There came a time, not too often where Sherlock preferred not to be the centre of attention during a case which urgently needed his skills to solve it and enjoy the limelight by the end of the day. Locking himself away safely inside his mind palace, at least helped him to map out where the fire exits and the dressing rooms were situated in this building.

"So what are you thinking?" John asks him, while as the duo took it upon themselves to find the nearest dressing rooms. It just so happened seeing as this building had two floors - Ground Floor for performers/artists/Music Fans and the First Floor for the Manager/Venue Owner; The dressing rooms were just down the corridor, which Sherlock had already worked out from his deductions.

"The truth lies within the eye of the beholder unless the beholder isn't in charge anymore...meaning someone's swiped the CCTV recording from that night and making Peter look more like a rambling Scot with an obsession for Irn Bru ."

"An obsession for Irn Bru? What makes you think that has anything to do with this case?"

Even before reaching the room Peter used a few nights ago (The Bowman Room), Sherlock was keen to share one strange theory.

"Has it not crossed your mind John, given how Peter is Scottish, he would crave this as a reminder of home before he goes on stage for a performance. So who's to say, there's a strong possibility his drink could have been spiked. Of course with whatever was used to spike his drink, the drug would more or less have taken a few hours to take effect on him and then when it did just that, he's powerless to do anything, at the mercy of of this individual. "

"Couldn't Chloroform be applied?" John felt this was the likely cause.

"Maybe." Sherlock re-examined the brief events from the other day, at the flat. _How the young man showed no signs of a drug habit while under questioning. His hazel eyes although nervy at times, Sherlock put this down to shock obviously. The name Lawrence stood out, illuminated right in front of his eyes._

"The victim's name is Lawrence. When we walked past the main reception area. I caught a glimpse of the staff signing-in book. Today is Friday and the names of everyone who works here, printed in the book, have five ticks against them. Whoever Lawrence is, he has two ticks against his name. Peter's gig took place on Tuesday night and yet there isn't for Wednesday, Thursday or today." _A flashback confirms this in Sherlock's mind._

"Well maybe he's unwell or he's had a family emergency." John isn't sure whether to agree him on this. He believes Sherlock's attempts of throwing himself head first into this case and blanking out his feelings for Molly, may be impacting his general understanding of everything around him.

"Sorry I couldn't help overhearing your conversation." A woman in her mid 50s who was cleaning nearby, addressed Sherlock and John. "You were talking about Mr Barnes...Lawrence Barnes?"

"Yes."

Sherlock's eyes suddenly began to analyze the body language of this woman. _Right-handed_ , _Widower, Alert, Independent, Good Listener, Crime Fiction fan, ..._

"He's never missed a day's work. Really strange of him, to miss 3 days of work without letting his colleagues know. He actually gave me a cleaning job here. Nice man, so like I say it's out of character of him, not to show up for work." She tells them.

"Did you notice anything else, anything which suggested to you, someone may hold a grudge against him?" Sherlock questions her.

"Not from what I've seen. He treats everyone with the right kind of respect and equally. Come to think of it, I don't think anyone has ever said a bad word about him in this place. Why are you asking me this for? Has something happened to him?"

A few minutes later, the woman whose name badge read Bernadette on it, was now trying to process what Sherlock Holmes had just told her. She nearly lost her balance, as soon the 'murdered' word was brought up. "You think someone killed Lawrence? Did that young singer tell you this?"

"Yes he did. Why don't you believe him?" John asks her.

"This may surprise you but I actually do believe him, it makes sense than a lot of other things. You see I arrived for work on Wednesday morning for my shift and the first thing I see is this big commotion, this young man in his 20's hanging around outside. He wouldn't move unless someone came out and spoke him away from the gathering crowd behind him. Sadly he didn't achieve that and the only thing he did achieve was getting himself escorted from the premises. Anyway I overheard about the allegations he made but I never thought they would be involving Mr Barnes."

Despite the odds now looking pretty favorable for them, with regards to getting to the bottom of this seemingly straightforward case; Sherlock was suddenly struck by a worrying feeling - danger was still lurking around the corner, waiting to take an advantage of one's biggest mistakes.

Their investigation didn't really get far, especially when Sherlock asked if he could view the corridor/stage area recordings for that week, he was told visitors weren't allowed to view them.

As they were leaving the building, Sherlock was putting together a rather marvelous yet simple idea.

 **End of Chapter**

 **All Reviews are welcome**


	2. Lies, Love and Hope

**Sherlock: The Monuments of the Heart**

 **Chapter 2**

"Promise you won't get carried away with this plan of yours Sherlock. Remember the last battle game plan you had, your disguise almost became your undoing, when you got the two of us caught up in the middle of a street race. You put Lestrade in a difficult position." John warns him, not to repeat the same actions as he did last time.

 _Central London 10 months ago. Shortly after two police patrol cars had arrived at the scene of an illegal street racing circuit. Greg Lestrade having just shown up, is now busy making sure a few young adults are being rounded up, ones who have deliberately broken their ASBOs. While h_ _e was arresting one troublemaker and had began to recognize one very familiar face, who was suspiciously lurking around behind one of the patrol cars. He looked closely at the face of this person and it dawned upon him the identity was someone he knew too well. "I'm arresting you on the...Sher..."_

 _"So this is what you meant on his blog by 'Well confirmation will happen soon enough, on proving that the rules of streetcar racing are as boring as watching a non league football match'. So why are you both here really?" Greg asks John._

 _"Myself and Sherlock were both asked to keep an eye on the son of one of Sherlock's neighbours. The father George, in the last year has returned from serving a prison sentence in Pentonville prison. Yet the mother, Katherine believes their family is still being targeted by a former associate of George's. The only name she gave us was 'Rodriguez'."_

 _"Michael Rodriguez? We've got surveillance on him at the moment. Leave it to me and my team, to deal with him and just concentrate on making sure George's lad doesn't get too cocky with illegally racing street cars."_

 _"I have no intention of becoming his bodyguard and let's face it, I'm not exactly a favourite neighbour of his."_

 _Two weeks earlier: Mid-morning, two 18 year old lads are chatting outside 221B Baker Street, one is holding a football in his right hand and the other lad is playing around with his smartphone, taking photos, annoying people walking past and customers and staff in Speedy's sandwich bar/cafe. Sherlock leaves Baker Street alone and isn't best pleased to see these two misbehaving._

 _"Your mate's blog is really, really boring. Nah I'd rather read a better blog than his. As for you Sherlock, I don't want your followers see in you." George's lad, decided to be as rude as possible, in order to impress his friend._

 _Unfortunately his careless attitude didn't quite make him look cool nor smart, seeing as Sherlock had instantly seen through what the young man was hoping to achieve - embarrass him first and then goad the Consulting Detective into punching him._

 _"Acting like a bully in front of your friend, won't exactly earn you the respect you're craving. Now go and play some Pokemon Go, perhaps your intelligence will be restored, from playing that on your smartphone." The friend standing behind him, started laughing and agreeing with Sherlock's comments._

 _The neighbour's son clearly didn't like the fact, Sherlock had outsmarted him._

 _"Well, you certainly have your way of putting people in their place Sherlock, I'll give you that." Lestrade suggested, with a chuckle._

 _"Yes with words, the best weapon of all, to turn the tables on someone." Sherlock hints._

The last of the day's sunlight shone through the flat's living room window, while Sherlock was taking, what felt like forever in his bedroom to decide on which clothes he would wear for his latest mission.

 _Fireman's uniform - "How the hell did i come to own this?" Chef's uniform...a definite no._

"Sherlock wouldn't a security guard uniform, be a suitable choice for you? Let's not forget you're only intending to gain access to Lawrence Barnes' office, so you can search around for any clues, that suggests he could have been...say being blackmailed."

"John, I'm a high functioning sociopath, I'm quite capable of knowing how I'm going to go into battle against new enemies, if necessary." Sherlock was brimming with absolute pure confidence - the best of it since before he discovered he had a sister.

"Just don't slip up and get caught up in some sort of trap, which we might end up finding ourselves in." Having learned from past cases, John hoped they weren't going to find themselves being confronted by villainous gunmen.

"It would be unlikely, for the person who killed Lawrence and then attacked Peter, for them to make the mistake of revealing themselves to us. Unless foul play was to blame and this person is doing whatever it takes to conceal their crime. A clever, very clever thing for them to do. Yet easy for someone like me, to unmask their identity."

"Hang on a minute, I thought we had already established the possibility of there being two people involved in this murder?"

"Yes, that's still a strong possibility John. Perhaps for the 2nd person, jealously played a vital part in what happened or poor Lawrence found himself paying the price with a fatal blow to the head by a colleague, someone who he had double-crossed during a confrontation of sorts."

"You've really got all of this thought out, haven't you Sherlock? Even without no clue as to where the location of Lawrence's body may currently be. I think this is a first for you, even Mycroft would be intrigued by your latest theories."

Sherlock flashed a huge grin at John and then turned to take one last look at the clothes, which were laid out on the bed before him. One uniform which had only just caught his attention, happened to be a high-visibility jacket - one he hadn't worn for a few years.

 **xxx**

The two returned to the Hammersmith venue later that evening. Sherlock; wearing a dark blue duffel coat, having successfully convinced a bumbling office worker he was there to do last minute security checks in the office, was now accessing Lawrence Barnes' office. Of course he certainly didn't waste any time, in looking for clues.

Straight away upon stepping foot inside this office, something registered with Sherlock about it. How this office certainly belonged to a businessman who over the years has managed to develop a typical, irritating obsession for showing off his many accomplishments - wall mounted framed certificates and decorations, such as indoor fancy plant pots and a framed holiday photo of Lawrence Barnes and a woman, presumably his wife, happily standing on the pitch at the Nou Camp Stadium. John walked in, while Sherlock concentrated on viewing the many photos in this office.

"So what are you thinking? He enjoyed behaving like an introvert, treating his job and life as if it were Groundhog Day for him."

"You seriously don't believe this man could have been an introvert? Look around you John, the evidence is staring us both right in the face. Take that picture over there of Lawrence Barnes..." Sherlock points to where the desk, to show John where to look. "does that seriously tell you, this man likes to stick to the same regular routine, 9am - 5pm, every day of the week. No, it tells you, he's an extroverted entrepreneur. A man who I'm to assume.. enjoys his wealth and cherishes lying on some beach in the Mediterranean or the Caribbean more than working 7 days a week." Sherlock suggests while taking a look at a photo placed at the desk. The photo was of two men, Lawrence with someone who looked remarkably like him, as if he were his doppelganger.

He retrieves the photo and then holds it up to show John, his way of explaining furthermore what he means by his comment.

"Now that's quite a plot twist of it's own." John agrees. "So is there anything else you would like to look for while we're here?" He isn't sure why he asked this question to his friend because he's already convinced himself about the answer Sherlock will likely provide him with, would obviously be yet another one of his most predictable answers.

"I know what you're thinking John, time for us both to leave this place untouched, as if no one has even entered it. Not quite yet. As you pretty much know I made one or two mistakes when taking on Culverton Smith. So now I'm treating every bit of evidence as thoroughly as possible, making sure I don't miss the giveaway clue that solves a case like this."

"Unbelievable" John whispers quietly. Sherlock shot him a _'Don't let your frustrations lower your IQ_ ' look.

After 30 minutes, it became apparent no significant item of such, in this too-well-organised office wished to present itself as potential evidence. Sherlock realised he was getting too obsessed with correcting a few of his own silly mistakes. So he finally gave up on finding any more clues that night and chose to leave, John followed behind him. The two were suddenly stopped in their tracks, by the sound of John's phone ringing loudly.

The GP shoved his right hand inside the pockets of his jacket, to find his phone. "Spongebob Squarepants really...John."

"Well Rosie likes it." John chuckles, he's not ashamed to admit he has a children's tv show theme tune as his ringtone. He thinks Sherlock is just saying this because Mary once sweet-talked him into watching a couple of episodes while being on babysitting duty one night, a few months ago.

"Hello Molly..." John says, as soon as he answers his phone. Sherlock's reaction changes when he hears her name being mentioned. "Oh right. Thanks for letting us know. We'll meet you there..." He checked the time on his watch - which read 9:15pm. "In about 15 minutes."

"So what did Molly say?" Sherlock asks. He looked rather keen and anxious enough to find out.

"Lawrence Barnes' body was bought into the morgue 45 minutes ago. She thought we should know this because Lestrade emailed her to let her know, this case belonged to us. I thought Lestrade wasn't keen on investigating this case."

"Maybe Peter's been playing detective himself. He didn't look satisfied with what we told him yesterday. It's more than likely he couldn't let this matter rest. So visiting the police station and asking to see Geoff again, believing he might get somewhere, by making one last plea for him to listen to what he had to say about him being attacked."

"Geoff?" Oh no. His knack of remembering Lestrade's first name, out of nowhere had let him down again.

"Oh Greg, isn't it?" Sherlock's more than happy to acknowledge this slight name mistake he made. Strangely he did feel butterflies in the pit of stomach because of the thought of seeing Molly. Of course he wasn't considering the possibility of confessing this very feeling to John.

"And here was me thinking his name had permanently clicked in your mind." John happily jokes. Just as they were leaving the office and then the building itself.

 **xxx**

The body laid in the morgue at St. Bartholomew's Hospital and was now there to be viewed by Sherlock, John and Lestrade.

Lestrade read through some of the completed paperwork, he brought along with him. Once he read the info he needed to know regarding this new case, he addressed Sherlock and John. "Before you ask boys, yes everything Peter MacNair told me about the night he was attacked did make me feel curious and want to know more. So I suggested he came to see you two because I felt he needed to hear your deductions as soon as possible and then once he did, I had a hunch he would come back to see me. Ask me to investigate his claims."

"Why didn't you come to Baker Street to tell us this?" John asks him.

"I had a meeting with the Chief Superintendent to prepare for, for yesterday. I couldn't just drop everything for the sake of it and end myself in hot water. My job might have been on the line, if that had happened." Lestrade argues his case, it isn't the first time he's done this.

Molly entered the room, carrying a few items. Sherlock's eyes followed her around the room for a few minutes. The longer she didn't acknowledge his presence, the more he suspected, she was trying not to blush under his gaze or even say his name.

"So who exactly found him and where?"

"A man named James Valentine. He was walking his dog around lunchtime, through Elmstead Wood. The dog ran off on him, guessing his dog somehow picked up a scent from where the body was positioned. Wrapped up in a blanket apparently." Lestrade started to explain to them.

"He was there overnight." A lightbulb moment clicked in Sherlock's mind.

"12 hours?" Nothing looked conclusive or spot on about how long the body had remained in Elmstead Wood.

"No, 16 hours." Sherlock chips in with one interesting thought. The Consulting Detective is pretty sure of this actually being the case. Wanting to get to the bottom of this, he starts to carefully whiz through one or two clues in his mind, while pacing back and forth around the room. _The knuckles on his right hand look different and there's no bruises on either legs nor arms nor face. Perhaps strangulation or even poison could eventually prove to be the cause of death._

"Sherlock's right." Molly confirms his guess. She looks extremely impressed. Well who could blame her? A few moments later the two of them exchanged a telling look between each other.

"Oh and one more thing we're not looking at Lawrence Barnes, we're looking at his twin brother. John, the photo in his office was of him and his twin on holiday together."

"Wait a minute, you broke into his office?" The Detective couldn't believe what he had just heard. The two men

"Lestrade, you being a detective. Surely seeing Sherlock dressed like a security guard, at least you would have been the first person in here, to question why he's currently dressed the way he is." John feels it's necessary to point this out.

"John I've had a lot on my plate. I haven't got time to play 'Name 5 Sherlock disguises.' Anyway, as your blog will probably get flooded with rants from your followers, if I arrested the both of you. I'm going to let you off...but if you go breaking into someone's office again, I'll have no choice but to arrest you."

"We won't...will we Sherlock? Sherlock?" John turns to ask his friend, only to annoyingly learn he isn't paying much attention.

"Have you got a name for any of his relatives, brother, sister, mother or father?"

"There's two brothers according to the records we've got on him, Brian and Paul. Parents died in a car crash when the brothers were 10, 12 & 15\. If that isn't Lawrence Barnes, which brother is it then and why the hell did his wife confirm it was him?"

"She's already falsely made the identification?" John asked, with a genuinely surprised look.

"Yeah, half an hour ago. One of my DIs had to take her out of here, seeing as she looked quite upset. What with her having to identify her husband...who we now isn't him."

"Of course, she knew it wasn't him. They planned it together, although it was more likely to be her husband, wanting to be the brains behind the plan to pull of the perfect murder. It wouldn't surprise me, if talked her into, putting on the best performance on her life especially in front of you...Grah...Greg - by coming here to St Barts and deliberately identifying the wrong body."

"That's sick. To do that to your own flesh and blood." Molly voices her thoughts.

"Quite right Molly." Sherlock nods his head in agreement. Gazing over at her while he speaks, perhaps a bit longer than he expected to do so. It didn't take long for Greg and John to both see the very obvious yet awkward blossoming chemistry between their friends. The two men couldn't resist the urge to smile, while Sherlock's back was turned.

"Is there an address for Mrs Barnes or a workplace where we can speak to her?" Sherlock asks. Although he knows his eyes aren't what you would say 'at the back of one's head' but he's absolutely certain of what was currently occurring behind his back and he didn't agree with it one single bit - as a matter of fact, it was putting him off from thinking.

"Well..." Knowing he might end up facing a barrage of disapproving looks from the man who he had known for almost 10 years, Greg dropped the smile instantly and got straight back to doing some decent detective work, by rechecking the paperwork he had with him.

"the only one I've got written down is...Celtic Avenue. It's a 15 minutes drive away from here. Is this your way of telling me, you wish to speak to her tonight? I mean it's getting pretty late." Greg points out. Tiredness is clearly visible in his body language, Sherlock detects this forthwith.

"Oh alright, first thing tomorrow morning then. Celtic Avenue 8am. The game is afoot." After a minute or two of silent pauses between the three men, John whose face was scrunched in frustration, decided to step on his friend's toe, to get him to rethink his original words.

Thankfully John's silent intervention on the conversation does the trick, even if it made Sherlock feel he had derailed the role, which he had only just started for himself right there and then. _Such a moment spoiler_

"Right I'll see you two tomorrow. Night Molly." Greg chooses to head home for the night and bids everyone goodnight. Sherlock, John and Molly remained in the morgue together. John thought Sherlock should return back to Baker Street, he deserved an early night's rest.

"Sherlock are you coming or not?" John asks, as he's holding the door open. Sherlock is desperate to speak to Molly alone but feels now isn't the right time. He nods and then walks towards the doorway, he glances over at her thoughtfully. His mind abuzz with many thoughts.

"I'd like the two of us to catch up sometime, if it's possible. Night Molly." Sherlock said before leaving with John.

 **xxxx**

"It's called having a heart-to-heart Sherlock, not having a catch up. Honestly you need to get out more and by that, I do not mean solving murders, kidnappings, robberies and online crimes. She's clearly in love with you and you seem to be giving the impression, that you're giving her hope of a future relationship with her. For once Sherlock, please don't go breaking her heart, by coming out with another one of your uncomfortable deductions."

"Kind of you to show a certain interest in my non-existent love life...seeing as that's what it feels like for me at this very moment, John. Molly is and always will remain an important priority to me but right now the game is very much on for us." Sherlock insists, he's got things under control.

Greg's keeping them waiting, he's running 15 minutes late. _Trust a detective of his stature, not show up precisely on time, as arranged._

"The problem with oversleeping is, it's used as a detective's way of telling someone, they think you do a better job than them - You make a start and I'll be along later to check what progress you've made."

"As if Greg's worried you're taking too much credit for solving most of his cases. I do credit him in the blog. He's known as 'the Fancied Charmer' because you know of the...silver fox look he has..."

Lestrade quietly sneaks into the flat and walks up behind John, before announcing his presence. "Gentlemen! My ears have been burning, meaning you two have been speaking about me."

"Yes but not all the time. Besides you're the hot topic of conversation on John's blog, among every follower on there - presumably the female followers of course." Sherlock implies in a snarky manner.

"And what's that suppose to mean?" Greg isn't sure he likes the way, in which Sherlock is behaving but still manages to keep calm and professional while he's stood in the centre of the flat's living room.

"Well you do have a Ladies man look about you. One that says _'I'm all yours ladies'_ " Sherlock further hints. Greg is beginning to understand why Sherlock is behaving the way he is. Obviously he's annoyed him because he hadn't arrived on time like he promised at St Bart's last night.

"Let's get one thing clear, I'm not really in much of a mood to be playing referee here between the pair of you. Either you sort out your differences, otherwise I will end going downstairs to inform Mrs Hudson and she will no doubt be dealing with the both of you, with a bloody good telling off."

"Mrs Hudson's telling offs a rather memorable Gregory. If you don't believe me... ask my brother, I'm sure he'll be able to verify my claim." Sherlock is having too much fun, winding Greg up. He knows his behaviour is making him look childish and smug but then again he just can't resist bringing up a few observational remarks. He notes, John isn't laughing like he usually does, maybe he's right.

"Anyway! Can we please try and get ourselves back on track and think between the three of us how we can get a full confession from Lawrence's wife, even Lawrence himself if he happens to be hiding in the loft or in the basement." For the first time ever, from nowhere Greg had put his brain into gear before putting his mouth into motion and finally saying something helpful.

Even Sherlock had a look of 'You've just taken the words right out of my mouth and now I have absolutely no idea what I want to say in response' about him. His eyes narrowed, his hands gripped the arms on his armchair, as he looked away from John and Greg, for a matter of moments.

"Sherlock?" John's left to wonder why his friend has assigned himself with doing 'the silent treatment'. "You know I didn't mean to raise my voice, if that's why you're ignoring me."

"Who says I'm ignoring you?..." He jumps to his feet and strolls over to where Greg is standing, who remained completely oblivious to how significant his comments had become, in revitalizing Sherlock's train of thoughts. "You're not as clueless as I first assumed you were. Lawrence Barnes' biggest weakness is his wife and she will not want to carry their secret, the fact that they both killed his twin brother and attacked Peter MacNair, to her grave."

"Well instead of us going round in circles, taking too much time speculating. My suggestion is why don't we do what we do best, by getting off our arses and go visit Mrs Barnes and ask her, whose idea it was for her to lie at the morgue last night." John was in full motivational mood.

As ever the effect of John's 'kick up the arse' comments were as, pushy and a bit much. Still Sherlock was happy to retrieve his coat from the coat hangar and head off to the address they had for Lawrence's wife.

 **xxxx**

Upon arriving in Celtic Avenue, Sherlock was currently having to tolerate three children, around at least 5 years old, who were pulling faces at him on the other side of the road, while he was stuck sitting in the back seat of Greg's car. Surprisingly he opted to do the right thing, by turning a blind eye to them and try to focus his eyes elsewhere. He knows he doesn't want to get himself in John's bad books by behaving irresponsibly again.

Greg radioed for the backup team; Anderson and Donovan were responsible for heading the team, for them to make sure they parked at the corner of the street, out of sight and to make sure not to draw attention to themselves in the meantime because it would likely raise suspicion with anyone connected to Mr and Mrs Barnes.

"Terrific...talk about waiting for the perfect moment to catch our suspects." John cannot believe they haven't been allowed to get out of the car and to go knock at the door." He wasn't the only one, Sherlock is asking the same question too in his mind.

"We can't just go marching yet. There's every chance Mrs Barnes will try to stay one step ahead of us, by doing a runner before we get to search the house" Greg owns up an admits why he doesn't want them to make a mistake by going in too quickly. Before he had the opportunity to reveal more details, a Ford Fiesta pulled up outside the house they believed in which Lawrence's wife lived.

The person who got out of the Ford Fiesta was in fact, Lawrence's wife and she didn't appear to acting like a grieving widow, she was smiling and laughing, while chatting to someone on her phone.

"Well and truly busted." John said.

"I couldn't agree more." Greg backed him up straight away.

Meanwhile, Sherlock fed up of this latest pointless delay, has had enough and gets out of the car, runs over towards Lawrence's wife. She's startled as soon as she's aware of him watching her like an eagle.

"Yes can I help you? or are you gonna stand there gawping at me like you're some demented weirdo with a crush." She wonders what's the deal with him, he hadn't introduced himself or even tried to make the effort of apologizing to her, for making her jump with fright.

"You are Lawrence Barnes' wife am I to presume, yes? You visited the morgue at St Bart's last night, to identify the body of your husband...only it wasn't actually your husband...it was his twin brother. I think that's the truth you're so confident of getting away with."

"What in god's name, why would you even say that? You awful man..." Her mood changes like a thunderbolt and she soon resorts to playing the victim again, this time by accusing Sherlock of harassing her.

"You're obviously a terrible liar and someone who wouldn't win in a popularity contest either. The truth is eating you up inside and you're doing whatever you can...to protect the man you love."

"Either you leave me alone or I will call the police and make sure you're arrested." She shouts, feigning disbelief at the accusations being thrown at her especially in a public street.

Greg eventually puts in an appearance as does John, standing alongside Sherlock. "I am the police, Mrs Barnes. You've got a lot of explaining to do to us."

 **End of Chapter**

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 **All Reviews are welcome**

 **Truths will be told...not quite all of them though.**


	3. On the Road

**Sherlock: The Monuments of the Heart**

 **Chapter 3**

"Start from the beginning...just don't make your murderous secret, look boring and tiresome when you come to explaining the how and why you helped to or killed your husband's brother."

"Sherlock!" John shouts at him, he can't believe what his friend had just said to the woman, whether she was guilty of murder or guilty of being an accomplice.

Greg shook his head in slight disbelief before speaking to Lawrence Barnes' wife. "Sorry about him. He has certain ways of trying to work out how boring you may show yourself to be, when you're telling him a few truths. You might as well tell us everything before guilt starts to get the better of you, the more longer you deny everything." He at least was acting professionally.

"And if I tell you what you need to know. Can you tell me how many years am I looking at spending in prison for, for what I'm guilty of?"

"Up to 25 years maximum."

"I see. The truth of matter is, I was having an affair with Paul, his brother. Brian was onto us within three months, threatened to tell Lawrence everything, even said he would blackmail me, if I didn't end the affair. I could never find the right moment to tell Paul I wanted to end things between the two of us. So a few nights ago, Brian was with Lawrence at a venue in Hammersmith." She starts to open more, baring her soul with simple results. Sherlock chose to take it upon himself to intervene during this moment of her confession .

"Yes and what with you being desperate and at breaking point, with your brother-in-law watching over you like a hawk. You came to a decision, a decision you knew you couldn't back out of. You had to kill him. You poisoned his drink. That had to be the only way you could weaken him, without him ever suspecting you would resort to desperate measures and it worked...only you don't kill him in the end, did you? Lawrence did."

Both John and Greg expressed surprise upon hearing this unexpected revelation. Lawrence's wife couldn't quite believe, how this presumptuous man had unraveled the truth from her.

"Oh you were glad he had. You'd convinced him, his own brother was trying to attack you and he believing this, found the nearest object and struck Brian on the back of the head twice. Lawrence was devastated with what he had done. Then your moment of comforting your husband was short-lived by Peter Macnair, who just so happened to walk in to the room and spotted Brian's body on the floor. You acted fast, knocking him out from behind. You see he was lucky because your conscious told you to spare his life. You dragged him back to his dressing room and basically you took care of everything else - wrapping Brian up in a carpet roll, telling your husband you would protect him no matter what and that you would say it was him, if the body was ever discovered because of the fact both brothers resembled each other in looks. Lawrence must have been too vulnerable enough to question your reason for this. Oh, with Paul having been sent to Dubai for three weeks, for a last minute holiday because you wanted him out of the way, while you plotted Brian's murder. It all worked out well for you in the end until you made the mistake of sending him away. Surely it wouldn't have taken him long to put two and two together."

"Wow" is all Greg can think of saying, as he processes the information Sherlock has just shared with everyone.

"The game is up for you Helen." Sherlock tells her, revealing he knows - well he happened to remember seeing the name written down on A4 paper back in Lawrence's office.

"What about Lawrence? What happens next, now you know it was accidental murder?" Helen asks Sherlock, a question he decides to leave to Greg to answer instead.

"He'll put through a mental assessment, next he'll be questioned and then from there it will be determined whether he'll be fit enough to stand trial in around 6-12 months time." The detective thought she ought to know what would happen following the couple's arrest. She was clearly a woman beginning to regret the mistake she made of, putting the man who was led to believe she loved him, through plenty of heartbreak and torment.

"Where is your husband?" John asks her. He found it odd, she hadn't told them where he was hiding, whether it was in the attic or in the converted shed, which he spotted outside, from the kitchen window.

"He hasn't run away if that's what you're thinking. He's not here in the house with me either! " So Helen claims, whether she's telling the truth or not, John and Greg weren't sure. Sherlock however, had already sussed her out because of her mini outburst.

"No he isn't. Of course you couldn't keep him in the house, no you couldn't risk the thought of him being discovered in the attic. He's in Paul's house isn't he? because you've got spare keys. You thought by, ushering his brother off to Dubai at the last minute, you would keep the keys on you, believing the affair would continue once Brian was out of the picture. Yet Lawrence threw a spanner in the works but in a perfect way, your plan changed somewhat. He thought about asking you why you owned spare keys to his younger brother's house but he didn't. Shame because if your husband knew the truth, his conscience might not have been as vulnerable because he would have taken it upon himself to go to the nearest police station and confess to accidentally killing Brian and as well you taking care of disposing the body." Sherlock shared his final thoughts before Greg got one of the unformed officers to handcuff Helen and lead her out of her house, in view of three nosy onlooking neighbours.

"So how are we going to get to talk to Lawrence? He might be too scared to open the door to us." John asks.

A few minutes later, thanks to some surprisingly quick-thinking from Greg, he was able to get one of his colleagues back at the station, to look up Paul Barnes' address. The address itself was in Brighton, right by the promenade. Any plans they had once this case was wrapped up, would have to wait for another day or two at least. Sherlock's hopes of speaking to Molly alone as soon as possible, weren't looking likely to happen for the rest of the day or tonight.

"She wanted to him kill himself!" Sherlock experiences a Eureka moment.

"Sorry?" Greg asks.

"What?" John's trying to follow what Sherlock means.

"That's why it was perfect for her, to choose Paul's house. She knew she what she was doing, by letting Lawrence lose his mind over killing his brother. Of course her first plan changed, however this second plan was destined to work for her. We need to get there right now before Lawrence's conscience gets the better of him, the longer he's left alone and in doing so, her plan ends up succeeding." Sherlock seemed to be the only one, who was seeing the bigger picture.

"What now?"

"Yes now. Do I have to write down or draw it out as a picture flow chart for you?" Sherlock looks annoyed.

"No, I understood what you meant. I'm just surprised you're worried about a man you haven't met before."

"Well I guess, doing the right thing for once, actually matters a lot more than I first realized." Sherlock tells both John and Greg, as they're leaving the property.

 **xxxx**

As the sun shone brightly in Brighton especially across the coastal resort, Sherlock certainly wasn't enjoying the sun reflecting and flashing at his eyes through the passenger window of Greg's car.

"It's bad enough having the sun bouncing in your eyes, while walking along Baker Street, here it's even worse. Baldy aged men walking their dogs along the seafront, while displaying far too much of their pot bellies, they make it look like it's acceptable."

John and Greg both burst out laughing because of the insightful tone of Sherlock's behaviour. "Oh this will go down well on my latest blog. You do know, the men of Brighton will be calling you nicknames soon enough...hopefully not bad ones though, after they've read my blog." John tries not to poke too much fun at Sherlock's expense, while Greg is trying to find a useful spot to park the car.

"Well it's not worth typing then is it? if you think mine or your comments won't go down too well with people who live here." Sherlock insists.

"Okay I won't. I'll only refer to us, having solved the Brian Barnes' murder case and how the three of us decided to take it in the sights and sounds of Brighton afterwards...and so on." John didn't wish to give too much detail away, as to what he was thinking of explaining in his next blog.

"Before you to go any further...with your squabbling, I'm just letting you know you can both take the train on the way back and oh I believe that's the house right over there, that belongs to Paul Barnes." Greg isn't happy with the two of them constantly going off topic and temporary forgetting why they were in Brighton, seeing as it was Sherlock's idea in the first place to visit here, to talk to Lawrence Barnes.

"I'm fine with taking the train back." Sherlock smiles.

"I'm not." John on the other hand, disagrees.

"I'll make sure Brighton police, co-operate with us on this investigation. Lawrence will have to stay here in Brighton, if it looks as though he might be still too emotional. So just go easy with him Sherlock, if it's not too much to ask for you to do, just this once." Greg is hoping Sherlock won't put a foot wrong with his style of questioning and listening, when he meets Lawrence.

"Why the long faces? Okay I promise I will give the same listening techniques as any normal therapist likes to give while listening to many of their patients' problems." Sherlock's promise doesn't sound too reassuring but Greg feels he shouldn't repeat himself, so he decides to trust Sherlock on this.

The cream colored house that belongs to Paul Barnes is situated in a block of four houses, which overlooked the beach.

"Nice view, nice homes." John took quite a liking to the houses, as he walked past them.

When they did manage to find the house number for Paul's address, Greg was the one who ended up knocking at the bronzed letterbox. Meanwhile Sherlock's eyes were carefully studying the likelihood, they may be being watched from one of the windows above. Since Euros had mentally punished him and Mycroft, he had recently become more eagle-eyed when it came to monitoring the latest surroundings he had the misfortune of finding himself in, as well as whenever random people were around him.

"Hello Mr Barnes, my name is DI Lestrade. Can you open the door, I promise me and my friends won't hurt you. We just need to talk to you about your brother."

John, with a curious expression look across his face, silently mouthed "Friends?" to Sherlock. It was unusual for Greg to admit this out loud, while he was making every effort possible to get Lawrence to trust him.

"Leave me alone!" A man's voice believed to be Lawrence's, shouted back.

"We just want to help you. We're not armed."

Sherlock and John both knew Greg's negotiating techniques weren't getting them anywhere, so Sherlock decided to take it upon himself, to at least try and reason with Lawrence.

"Lawrence my name is Sherlock Holmes. Emotions can cloud one's judgement after a tragic accident, believe me I know... I've seen it myself - the 'not knowing when torment is going to end' and the 'seeing someone who means the world to you, their life being threatened'. Gut instinct can either be the making of you or the undoing of you. If you continue to hide yourself away, your chances of finding redemption will no remain available to you." Sherlock's words are more thought provoking and truthful than Greg's.

"Alright, I'll talk to you...only you. Tell your copper friend, I'm not willing to listen to what else he's got to say...until I've spoken to you Mr Holmes." Lawrence gave out a clear instruction, for both Sherlock and Greg to follow.

"Oh I'm sure he's got the message already." Sherlock smiles understandingly as he looks up at Greg.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, talking to Lawrence alone?" John isn't sure whether the businessman should be speaking to Sherlock alone, which is why he decided to follow behind Sherlock, as he entered the house.

"John, for goodness sake. I'm hardly likely to cause another breakdown for him." Sherlock, completely understood the reasons for why John had accompanied him inside the house or so he thought. As ever his manners were making him look as though he believed a person's looks/responses told the truth more so than emotions that laid within a person's feelings. It was very likely this usual assumption acted as a stumbling block for him also, for whenever Molly made her present known while being in the same room as him.

"Well let's hope you're right, otherwise it'll up to me, to calm things down." John says with a half serious look.

Meanwhile Greg heads off to the nearest cafe for a cup of coffee and some food.

 **xxx**

One of Brighton's finest detectives, DCI Murphy greets Greg with a handshake, upon his return to the block of houses.

"You must be DI Lestrade. Mr Holmes has told me a lot about you. Anyway regarding the Brian Barnes murder case, me and my team need to question his brother before we can allow him to be transferred in your custody."

"But he's in no state of mind to be questioned. He's need evaluating first because if you bring him straight away for questioning, he's unlikely to co-operate with you and claim you're wrongly breaching his human rights. Is there a chance, I can at least, sit in while you're questioning him?"

"That's fine with me. I can interview by this evening at the latest. I've radio'd my station to contact the local therapist, who usually works with us on cases." DCI Murphy suggests.

Sherlock and John feel Greg deserves to take over the case. Thanks to John's experienced knowledge of him having dealt with a few previous patients at the surgery he works at, it had only taken a little more than 15 minutes to convince Lawrence Barnes, to come round to the idea to trusting Greg and to take a few breather moments, anytime he felt he needed to.

"I'm sure Lestrade can manage things from here, without either of us criticizing the way he prefers to use his softly softly method with witnesses, suspects or other detectives."

"He doesn't seem to be having a problem with DCI Murphy, as far as I can see." John suggests this.

"Wrong. The longer you know Lestrade for, like I have, the more you can read his body language - which is currently telling me, he doesn't look happy with playing second fiddle to DCI Murphy." Sherlock jokes, harmlessly.

"How is it you seem to know what makes Lestrade the detective he is, all because you can read his body language? and yet you've never known why Molly looks at you the way she does? She's clearly in love with you Sherlock and probably has been ever since the moment she first met you." John tells the truth on how he sees things from his point of view.

"Yes..." Sherlock whispers, with a thoughtful look. "I've been a horrible fool." He surprisingly admits - a very rare acknowledgement by him.

John bursts out laughing. "You can say that again, I'm sure Mycroft would back me up on this too, if he was here with us."

Sherlock sarcastically shot his friend a laugh-all-you-want-but-i-will-prove-you-wrong look. He didn't wish to know what exactly Mycroft would have to say about his little brother's finally making a decent effort at having a proper love life. His big brother was hardly what some would call 'a specialist on the subject of romantic relationships' himself. Over the years he had managed to do whatever he can, to avoid any likely romantic dalliances with female colleagues.

"Sherlock we should probably get the train back to London...unless you plan on standing here, unless you're thinking long and hard over what you want to tell Molly when you see her next." John can read him like the pages of a well read book. He believes he's taught Sherlock enough advice, something which every first-timer needs to master before entering a relationship.

"John stop trying to gain entry into my mind palace. Honestly, I can't even hide myself away in there, like I use to do, without you snooping around on the other side of it. Okay I'll talk to Molly tomorrow morning. If it isn't any trouble with you, I need some alone time right now to gather my thoughts." The sparkle in Sherlock's left eye was notable, as he finally reveals what he's planning to do next.

"Okay you know, it's just me wanting to make sure you don't go off the rails again. Performing my best friend duties whenever I feel it's important to do so." John tells him.

Greg walks over towards them. "Boys you're seriously leaving me here with Mr Showboat?"

"Yes. Unless you want us to be in the way while you're waiting for Mr Showboat to finish questioning Lawrence Barnes." John smiles knowingly.

"No. Go back to London. I'll phone you Sherlock and update you, if anything comes up while I'm at Brighton Police station." Greg feels they're right to want to go back to London and says his goodbyes before walking back to where DCI Murphy is standing, talking to one of the Police Constables.

Sherlock and John both then headed off to the nearest train station.

 **End of Chapter**

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 **All Reviews are welcome**


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